It's the little things. . .

When someone dies, you grasp and grab and hang onto everything "theirs."  You save their clothes, their notes and handwriting.  You save voice mails and messages.  You save everything you can, just to remind everyone in this world; he was alive, he was here, he mattered.

As memories begin to fade and time ticks forward, you hang onto everything "them."

"Effects of. . .", it's never an envelope you want to get,  but you know you grasp and grab and hang onto everything "theirs."